


After the End (On hiatus until 'Where The Heart Is' series is complete!)

by What_The_Fawkes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:28:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28997523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/What_The_Fawkes/pseuds/What_The_Fawkes
Summary: How would the story have changed if Harry had really died in the Forbidden Forest? What happens when the story doesn't have a happy ending and we still have to continue on? Hang on, it's gonna be a bumpy ride!!TW! Warning: This fic is going to get incredibly dark. There will definitely be violence, psychological abuse, smut, self-harm, and nonconsensual sex. If any of these are major issues for you, please do not read this!Thank you, JKR for providing us with amazing characters and backgrounds. I own none of those and don't make any money off of my work.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	1. At the End

“No!” Hermione and Ron shouted in unison. McGonagall's heartbreaking cry smothered theirs. 

“Harry? Harry!” Ginny screamed in horror. The silence that followed was terrifying. When Harry did not move, the crowd began to stir, some of them crying out in surprise, in denial, in heartbreak.

“Silence!” Voldemort called out. There was a loud bang and a bright flash of light, and a forced silence fell over the entire crowd. “It is over! Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet, where he belongs!” Hermione choked back a sob as Hagrid lowered her best friend on to the ground, tears streaming down the giant’s face.

_It’s not possible, Harry can’t be dead..._ The witch thought to herself. Her heart pounded in her ears and her legs felt like they would give way. When Neville stepped forward from the crowd, Hermione gripped the edge of Ron’s shirt, certain that disaster was about to unfold. Then Neville pulled the Gryffindor’s sword out of the sorting hat and split the snake in half. As all hell broke loose, Ron turned and grabbed Hermione’s hand.

“We need to get out of here, now.” The witch nodded without a clue to what he had actually said, her eyes still locked on Harry’s body. “Hermione, come on!” Ron yelled, “We have to go!” The witch allowed Ron to pull her away.

“We left him! Ron, we just left him there!” she screamed, trying to pull against him. “How could we leave him?”

“Hermione, he’s dead. What more can we do?” he yelled back at her, still pulling her toward the stairs. There was a loud crack and a flash of red light hit the wall only a foot from Ron’s shoulder. The pair whipped around, wands at the ready.

“Where do you think you’re running off to?” Macnair grinned.

“When I say so, you run, Hermione.” Ron said under his breath, “Get to the Room of Requirement. Use the passage or the vanishing cabinet. As soon as you’re off Hogwarts grounds, you can apparate.”

“No!” Hermione hissed, “I’m not leaving you, Ron!” The witch sent a stunning spell at Macnair, who blocked it. The Death Eater returned a hex and they both had to jump out of the way. Ron fired another spell, hitting Macnair square in the chest. The pair didn’t stick around to watch the wizard fall. Hermione gripped Ron’s hand and ran, spells and debris flying all around them. When one of the walls behind them exploded, Hermione was thrown back, losing Ron in a cloud of dust and stone.

“Ron! Ron, where are you?” the hysterical witch yelled. She shoved her wand into her jeans and began to dig through the rubble. Even when something sharp sliced open her palm, she ignored the blood and pain and continued to dig.

“Hermione, what the bloody hell are you doing?” George Weasley called out, grabbing her by the arm and tugging her up off the pile of rocks. She battled against him, tears streaming down her

“No! I lost Ron! I have to help, I can’t leave him behind too, George!” He pulled her close and leaned in.

“Listen to me, I’ll find him.” He said calmly. “I promise you. I’ll find my brother. Harry’s gone and that means you might be our best shot, Granger. Go back to shell cottage and someone from the Order will come find you when it’s safe. Now, go!” he gave her a little shove and then turned back to the pile of rubble. The witch wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket and spun around. Then she sprinted up the stairs, taking two at a time, her heart pounding in her ears. Hermione made it up three flights of stairs before a hex flew over her shoulder.

“Not so fast, sweet little Mudblood!” Rabastan Lestrange called to her, “The Dark Lord will be wanting a word with you!” Hermione shot a Stupefy at him but he blocked it, taking another step toward her. The witch glanced around, assessing her options. She turned heel and continued printing up the stairs, randomly firing hexes behind her. _Almost there…_

She hit the sixth floor, shifted to her left, and fired another stunning spell at the Death Eater. It struck her target and Lestrange fell backward, down the stairs. The witch focused on exactly what she needed and sprinted toward the Room of Requirement. Hermione watched the doors begin to take shape and breathed a sigh of relief.

“Expelliarmus!” An unexpected voice came from the opposite corridor and Hermione’s wand was ripped from her hand. She drew in a sharp breath of surprise as she was yanked back by the collar of her jacket. An arm took hold of her, wrapping around her neck and over her chest.

“Not so fast, Miss Granger,” Lucius Malfoy hissed in her ear. “I do believe my lord is longing to see you.” And then her world went black…


	2. Captive

Hermione woke with a start, drenched in sweat. She shivered against the cold floor and forced herself to stand, her head spinning. The smell of moss and dirt filled her nose as she tried to take a deep breath. It was stifling. The witch squinted in the dim light, assessing her surroundings. The entire cell was made of stone and there was a small window at the top of one wall, shining the tiniest bit of light into the room. It was barred and much too small for her to even attempt to fit through. On the opposite wall of the room, there was a large wooden bench chained to the wall. There was a single set of stairs that lead to what Hermione assumed was the exit. At the top of the stairs, and the bottom, were iron bar doors, which prevented any sort of escape without a wand.

There was a loud click as the door at the top of the stairs was unlocked. Hermione scurried backward, sitting in the corner beside the bench. The cell door opened and then closed, the lock clicking sealed. Hermione stared up at Rabastan Lestrange, who grinned down at her.

Thought you got rid of me that easy, did you, Mudblood?” he asked, coming closer. He squatted down in front of her and lifted her chin, forcing her to look up at him. Hermione glared and then, with all the force she could muster, spat directly in his face. The wizard’s reaction was immediate. He reached out and struck her, hard, across the face with the back of his hand. Hermione felt her lip immediately begin to swell.

“Respect,” he hissed, “May get you a long way here. Keep that in mind, my pretty little Mudblood.” He gripped the back of her hair tightly and pulled her into a crushing kiss. It took all of Hermione’s strength to shove him away; she fell backward, her head striking the bench. Lestrange only chuckled and moved toward her. He froze as the door at the top of the stairs clanged open. Swift footsteps echoed through the stone room and then the cell door was thrown open.

“Out, Lestrange.” Draco Malfoy commanded, his voice cold and hard. The Death Eater in front of Hermione stiffened but obeyed. When the door at the top of the stairs slammed shut, Draco approached Hermione, who was still crouching on the floor.

“Granger,” he greeted softly. He knelt down and lifted her chin gently. The witch tried to wrench herself away, but the wizard wouldn’t allow it. “Are you alright?” he asked, attempting to examine her face. Hermione was too shocked to form a response.

“Fuck, he struck you?” he asked, sliding his thumb over her bleeding lip. The wizard reached into his ropes and plucked out a rather large vial. “Don’t swallow this, aright?” he opened it and pressed his thumb against the vial, tilting it upside down and quickly reverting it. Then, he once again ran his thumb over her lip. It tingled painfully for a moment and then the sting dissipated. “The Dark Lord made it clear that no one is to touch you, at least until he speaks to you in person.” Draco stood and turned to leave.

“Thank you.” Hermione whispered, running her fingers back and forth over her lip. The wizard froze for a moment and glanced back at her before leaving the cell. Hermione tried counting the minutes as they ticked by, but eventually, she lost track of time. The light that came from the little window eventually faded and she sat alone in the dark. Her mind replayed seeing Harry’s lifeless body, over and over, like a nightmare she couldn’t wake from. She stifled a sob and silently prayed that everyone else had made it out alive; that George had found Ron in time. Eventually, exhaustion overtook her and she slumped over on the cold, hard bench.

“Granger, let’s go!” Hermione blinked and bolted awake as Theo Nott snapped his fingers at her.

“Theo?” Hermione asked groggily, rubbing her eyes. Her hands were quickly snatched away from her face and bound tightly in front of her.

“Yes, it’s me, Granger. Now, come on! The Dark Lord wants to see you and if I don’t promptly bring your arse back, I’ll be in trouble as well.” She was dragged up the stairs, closely behind him. Hermione tried her best to absorb her surroundings as she was pulled along, but the place was unfamiliar to her and soon she had forgotten which direction they came from.

“Where are we?” she whispered.

“My family home, Granger.” He said under his breath, “And believe me, I wish we weren’t.” Hermione felt a pang of sympathy for the wizard. He had tried to avoid the hatred and drama while they were in school. She had even studied with him on a few rare occasions. Now he was just another pureblood kid, forced to become a Death Eater because they had no other choice.

Theo turned a handle and pushed open a large set of double doors, pulling the witch along with him. They stepped into, what Hermione guessed, was once a large ballroom. A large U-shaped now filled the floor, a death eater seated in every chair on one side. The witch’s first thought was that it was a perfect setup for questioning or torture… Theo pushed her to her knees in the center of the room and went to sit down.

“So, this is the famous Hermione Granger?” the Dark Lord greeted her.

“Yes,” Hermione said bluntly, swallowing her nerves and meeting his eyes. She refused to show Voldemort any fear.

“You shall address him as ‘my lord’, Mudblood!” Bellatrix seethed. Hermione turned, unflinching, to look at the dark-haired witch.

“He’s not my lord.” She sneered. There was a small outbreak of shocked whispers at the table. It surprised Hermione, though, when Voldemort laughed.

“Headstrong, isn’t she? Ever the noble little Gryffindor… The question remains: what should we do with her?”

“Can I kill her for you, my lord?” Bellatrix asked eagerly. Hermione rolled her eyes and bit her lip to keep from saying anything stupid. She remained silent, staring at the marble flooring as the Death Eaters debated back and forth.

“Still,” Hermione’s attention snapped back to the wizard as he addressed the hall again, “She has been named ‘the brightest witch of her age’. There must be some reason for that. Perhaps she may become useful to us at some point… So,” he continued brightly, “Who would like to have a pet?” When Rabastan Lestrange immediately stood, Hermione paled and her stomach churned. Voldemort turned to address him but was interrupted by another voice.

“My lord, I’ve already had to treat her wounds because Lestrange cannot follow orders or control himself.” Draco Malfoy offered.

“I’ll take her if you like, my lord.” Hermione’s eyebrows flew up when Severus Snape spoke.

“Severus… Indeed? Has another Mudblood caught your fancy, my boy?” Snape snorted.

“Hardly, my lord. I have taught the little chit for six years. I feel as though I may keep a better handle on her than anyone else would.” The room grew uncomfortably quiet as Voldemort rubbed his chin in thought.

“Lucius…” He finally said.

“Yes, my lord?” Lucius responded immediately.

“It was you who captured the Mudblood and brought her to me. I’m surprised you have not requested to keep her.”

“My lord, I just lost my wife three days ago; I have no interest—”

“Your wife was a traitor!” Voldemort snarled. “I saw it all there in her head, Lucius! If we had given her the chance, she would have betrayed us all.”

“Of course, my lord,” Lucius bowed his head obediently. “Still, she was my wife…”

“Of course,” Voldemort cooed. Hermione felt nauseous watching Voldemort attempt to feign affection. “So, you don’t want the Mudblood?” he asked once again.

“If it pleases you, my lord, I will gladly take the Mudblood.” The blonde replied smoothly.

“Good, good.” The Dark Lord nodded, “Take her, then.” Lucius Malfoy was out of his chair in a flash, grabbing her binds and leading her away. “Lucius?” Voldemort called in a sing-song voice. Lucius froze, as did Hermione. “I said take her… Now.” Bellatrix cackled and clapped her hands excitedly.

Hermione blanched as realization set in. The witch had heard rumors of twisted, sick celebrations: Revelries. Never in a thousand years did she think she would somehow be a part of one. The witch began to fight and struggle against her bonds, and the wizard’s hold, as Lucius dragged her back into the center of the room…


	3. Isolated

Hermione was still sobbing; clutching her torn clothes to her chest as Lucius dragged her out of the ballroom 15 minutes later.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered under his breath after they closed the door. Hermione let out a strange mix between a sob and a hysterical laugh.

“Somehow I doubt that,” she spat, “I’m only here because of you…” The wizard remained silent and Hermione glanced up at him. He looked pale and sick, as though he may vomit. To her surprise, he didn’t drag her back to the cell she had occupied. Instead, he pulled her up a huge staircase and down a long hall. When they reached the end, he unlocked a door and guided her inside the room.

“No one will bother you as long as you stay here. The Dark Lord has declared you as mine, but other Death Eaters won’t hesitate to…” he swallowed heavily as though the thought made him sick, “I will not touch you against your will again, Miss Granger. Clean yourself up, yes?” Hermione nodded, barely listening. The wizard retreated hastily, locking the door behind him. The witch took a single step into the room and melted to the ground in a heap of tears.

…

The moment his father dragged Hermione away, Draco wanted to rush after the both of them. Instead, he sat frozen in his chair, pretending to listen to the Dark Lord’s words. He glanced across the room at his Godfather, who seemed to share the sentiment. As soon as their meeting was over, the blonde moved as inconspicuously as he could out of the room.

“Where did you put her?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe of his father’s room.

“Draco, you leave that girl alone.” Lucius warned, “You and I have already fallen from favor with the Dark Lord. Just leave it be.”

“Where is she?” Draco tried again and Lucius sighed.

“Last door on the left of the hall.” He finally resigned, handing Draco the key, “Be careful, son.” Draco nodded and left.

When the blonde opened the door, the room seemed empty. Then he noticed the witch curled up on the floor, shuddering.

“Fuck!” he muttered, hurrying to the bathroom to start the tub. When he came back, she still hadn’t moved but continued to shiver on the floor. He grabbed her by a wrist and hauled her up off the floor as gently as he could.

“What are you doing?” game her shaking voice, barely louder than a whisper, “Why are you helping me?”

“The simple answer? You all saved me, in the Room of Requirement. Despite what you may think, Granger, I had hoped that Potter would come out of this on top.” The witch blinked up in surprise when he patted her shoulder and left her alone to bathe.

…

Hermione picked up the flannel off the counter and stepped over the side, into the steaming tup. Wincing in pain, she sunk down into the water until she was mostly submerged. The water was hot, but she barely felt it. The witch began to scrub the grim off of her skin. Unable to erase the dirty feeling she had, she picked up the brush and continued to scrub, trying to convince herself that she was stuck in some sort of nightmare.

…

When Draco appeared in Severus Snape’s doorway, he hadn’t needed to say a single word. Severus simply rose from his chair, set down his glass of firewhiskey, and followed his Godson. Once inside the room, Snape closed the door, making certain to ward it behind him. The wizard followed Draco to the lavatory. The blonde wizard opened the door and both men stepped into the steam-filled room.

“Just a dream, just a bad dream…” the witch muttered softly, continuing to scrub her red legs.

“Miss Granger?” Hermione continued washing, giving no sign she had heard him. Severus tried again. “Miss Granger…” The witch jumped and attempted to cover her nudity, looking up at him with wide, frightened eyes.

“Damn.” He whispered, looking over her raw skin. Some of the red patches were beginning to bleed. “She’s in shock.” He turned to Draco, “Do you still have that healing solution?” The blonde wizard nodded and fished the vial from his pocket.

“Miss Granger,” Severus received no response from the witch. “I’m going to lift you from the tub, Miss Granger, alright?” The wizard knelt down and plucked her out of the water. She was thin, too thin, and Severus began to worry about the probability of her survival. As he set her down on the bed, her expression remained blank.

“Miss Granger…” Severus waited, but no reply came. He needed to heal her, but he didn’t dare touch her without her consent. “Hermione,” he tried again, kneeling down so he was directly in her line of sight. The witch blinked repeatedly, recognition beginning to form in her eyes. “Hermione, I need to heal you. In order to do that, I need to touch you. Is that alright?” She gave a single jerk of her head and Severus nodded.

The witch flinched as he took her right leg in his hand and smothered it in the ointment. Her raw, damaged skin was immediately smoothed and began to heal. When he reached her thigh, Hermione recoiled, skittering across the bed. She looked back and forth between Draco and Severus, panic in her wide eyes.

“Granger, nobody here is going to hurt you.” Draco assured her softly, “Let Snape heal you, please.” For a moment, the witch looked like a terrified animal, but eventually, her shoulders relaxed. After a few moments of silence, Hermione finally nodded. Severus continued to slather her body in the ointment, focusing on the task at hand. When he reached for her face, she cringed again.

“Relax, Miss Granger. You’re safe here with us.” He said softly. When he was finally finished, Snape rose and went to the bathroom to wash his hands. As the wizard waited for the water to get hot, he clutched the edge of the counter until his knuckles turned white. During his time as a Death Eater, Severus had witnessed horrible things. Watching Lucius be forced to take her virginity… The thought made him sick to his stomach. Hermione Granger deserved so much better than that. Snape pounded his fists against the counter, releasing his anger and frustration. With Potter dead, the young witch would be vital in defeating Voldemort, but Severus worried that he may not be able to keep her alive…

When Snape was gone and Hermione had been wrapped in a soft robe, Draco tucked her into bed and put out the sconce on the wall.

“I’ve got to go.” He said weakly, “I can’t stay here all night; people will be wondering where I am.” Hermione blinked at him but didn’t bother to reply. He sighed and left the room, locking the door and warding it behind him. The moment the lock clicked, Hermione scrambled out of the bed and over to the window, throwing it open. The wind blew hard against her face as she looked out. She was too high up to even attempt to jump unless she wanted to break her legs. She leaned out and examined the side of the building below her. For a moment, the witch considered the old-fashioned tie-your-sheets-together method of escape. Then she heard the lock click again and threw herself back on the bed. She laid there, face buried in the blankets, holding her breath. The door opened, but whoever was there didn’t move. Hermione feigned stirring in her sleep, shifting her body so she could peer out through her lashes.

The light filling the hallway effectively shadowed the figure, but Hermione could make out the shine of Lucius Malfoy’s long blonde hair. She was unsure of how much time had passed, but she felt incredibly uncomfortable waiting for his next move. When he stepped into the room, it took everything in her not to stiffen; to continue pretending to sleep. She kept her eyes mostly closed, but she could feel his presence beside her. Hermione bit her tongue when his hand touched her cheek, and forced herself not to flinch. His thumb softly caressed her cheek, for only a moment, before he tore his hand away from her.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispered, so softly that Hermione wondered if she had imagined it. And then he was gone, the door sealed shut behind him. The witch continued to take shallow, quiet breaths, waiting. When nothing else occurred and the room remained silent, Hermione’s breathing grew steady and her heart rate slowed. After a long while, the witch fell into an exhausted slumber…

Hermione woke sometime the next day, stretching beneath soft sheets. The ache between her thighs caused her memories of the previous day to resurface. The witch bolted upright, suddenly hyper-aware of her surroundings. She could hear commotion out in the hall, but the door remained closed. Hermione fidgeted, her anxiety building as she waited for something, anything, to happen. Eventually, she couldn’t sit still and padded to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She leaned back against the door and let out a shaky breath, which immediately melted into uncontrollable sobs. Hermione dragged herself over to the sink, splashing her face with cold water and taking deep gulps of air. The edges of her vision blurred and she felt as though the room was literally closing in around her.

_This isn’t happening. This can’t be real._ Over and over, she repeated the words to herself, pacing back and forth across the bathroom. Eventually, she sunk to the floor, laying her head on her knees. The chill of the tile became too much for her and she hauled herself up off the floor. _Alright, you can do this_ ,

she thought to herself, attempting to organize her thoughts. Hermione went back into the bedroom and continued to pace attempting to formulate any kind of escape plan. It seemed, at that moment, her only two options were facing a house full of Death Eaters or trying to make it out the window. She began to rifle through the cupboards and drawers in the room, hoping to find something that could help her. When she heard the lock in the door click, Hermione jumped away from the bedside table, her heart hammering with anticipation. Her hands instinctively tightened the robe at her waist.

“How are you feeling, Miss Granger?” Snape greeted, closing the door behind him and setting a plate of food on the bureau. Hermione snorted.

“Sore, ashamed, livid.” She said bluntly, taking a seat at the foot of the bed. “Why am I here, Snape?” she asked after a moment, “I mean, why hasn’t he just killed me?” Snape stared at her for a moment and then sat beside her on the bed.

“The Dark Lord insists that he wishes to spill no more magical blood than necessary, especially now that Potter is gone. His intention now is to make muggle-borns and traitors his slaves. He’s handed you over to Lucius for now, but I can’t imagine that situation will last.: Hermione sucked in a sharp breath, imagining being given to someone like Lestrange. Her stomach turned and she swallowed the urge to vomit.

“What am I supposed to do?” she asked softly.

“For now, do as your told. Try to survive.” He responded. Hermione chewed her lip, contemplating his words. During the battle, Harry had sworn to her and Ron that Snape was on their side. With him gone, Hermione wondered what his motives were and whether she could trust him any longer. She watched the wizard leave the room, immediately noticing when the lock did not click behind him. The witch scanned the room, her heart pounding. The plate of food that had been left for her also held a fork and knife; that couldn’t have been a coincidence. She picked up the knife and shoved it into the pocket of her robe…

The witch cracked open her door and peeked out into the hall. Hermione breathed out a sigh of relief as she realized there was no one around. She stepped out of the room, closing and locking the door behind her. Glancing both ways down the hall, the witch tried to remember which direction she had been dragged from. The witch tiptoed her way down the hall until she found the stairs. She leaned over the banister, checking the stairs below. When there was no sign of movement, Hermione hurried down them, praying to make it outside before being discovered. Her bare feet padded softly across the marble flooring of the foyer. In another world; a different situation, the witch might have stopped and admired the beauty of the house. Instead, she paused for a moment and listened hard. The ballroom doors were shut tight, but Hermione could hear faint voices on the other side.

Hermione knew this would be her only chance to run. There was a sudden, soft gasp to her left and she whipped her head around. A tiny elf with wide eyes stared at her, a look of fright on its face. The elf dropped the bottle it had been carrying, the glass shattering against the cold floor. The witch turned to run. knowing someone would likely come to investigate the noise. The moment she ripped open the front doors, a loud, chirping alarm began to sound.

“Fuck…” Hermione whispered under her breath, making a sprint for freedom. Sticks and stones tore at her feet, but she continued to run, picking up her pace when she heard voices behind her. It wasn’t long before she was hit in the back with a stunning spell, knocking her off her feet. At the end of her fall, Hermione’s head struck the ground hard and her vision blurred.

“Aww, poor little Mudblood,” Bellatrix cooed, leaning over her, “Crucio!” The last thing she felt was crippling pain radiating through her body before the world around her went black….


End file.
